


Breathless

by HardNoctLife



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, Canon Universe, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Angst, Getting Back Together, Getting Together, M/M, One Shot, World of Ruin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:33:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23716771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HardNoctLife/pseuds/HardNoctLife
Summary: Couldn’t talk if you were breathless—Ignis had taught Gladio that on more than one occasion.In the World of Ruin, Gladio is reminded of this simple truth.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 22
Kudos: 92
Collections: Quarantine FFXV Exchange 2020





	Breathless

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Xhidaka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xhidaka/gifts).



> This was written for the FFXV Quarantine Exchange! Hope it brings something bright into the darkness we are all going through right now. One day, the Dawn will come.

No one should have found Gladio. Emphasis on the _should_. 

He was in the middle of the Duscaean countryside. It was crawling with daemons, and the landscape was unforgiving, even for the most experienced of hunters. And that was in the light. 

Now, in the perpetual darkness that plagued Eos—well—it was practically a suicide mission.

 _Perfect_ , Gladio had thought.

If he died, he died. Noct was gone, the world was in chaos, and Gladio was beginning to doubt there was anything worth living for. Or anyone, for that matter. After all, what good was a Shield without anything to protect?

Sure, he’d gone through all the stages of grief more than once. He liked the denial part the best. It was full of casual sex and binge drinking to mask his pain. At least then he could pretend like he was out partying like in the good ol’ days. Until he remembered what happened the last time he went out for a night on the town.

Of course, it was the _one_ time he’d taken Noct. He knew he should have said no when the 20-year-old prince asked him to tag along. 

They’d both gotten drunk, and Gladio had let his guard down—his biggest mistake. 

“ _Gladio_!” 

He’d never heard the prince scream like that before, and it had caught him by surprise. Then his vision had filled with blood, a knife meant for his throat raking across his face instead when he turned to meet their unseen attackers.

His clothes had been soaked crimson afterwards. When they had stumbled into Ignis’s apartment unannounced, the advisor’s face had turned as white as a sheet. 

“Don’t worry, it’s mostly the other guy’s,” Gladio had promised as Ignis drew near, hand trembling as it reached up to touch the Shield’s marred face.

He didn’t remember passing out from blood loss, but Noctis would never let him forget it, nor would Ignis. 

“If they hadn’t nearly killed you, I would have.” Ignis’s tone was all business and no play, but Gladio was never one to heed warnings. 

“Girls love scars,” Gladio had joked. No one had laughed. Not then, at least. Ignis got up and left in a cold fury. 

Later, they did laugh. Albeit, _much_ later. 

“—ruggedly handsome, I suppose.” Gladio overheard Ignis saying to Noctis when he had walked into the training hall to join them several weeks after the incident. 

“Who’s ruggedly handsome?” Gladio wondered, raising an eyebrow when they both went quiet instead of answering.

“It’s impolite to eavesdrop,” Ignis had said, dismissive. Without giving Gladio a chance to press them again, the advisor had summoned his daggers and gone on the offensive.

Couldn’t talk if you were breathless—Ignis had taught him that on more than one occasion. 

Like the time they had run out of gas (again) near the Vesperpool and had to trek to the nearest Coernix station together. 

“It’d be faster if we ran,” Ignis complained, glancing at the darkening sky worriedly. 

“Afraid of the dark, Specs? Or just don’t want to be alone with me?” It was meant to be teasing, but Ignis quieted. His look was thoughtful, the same one he got when he was assessing every step of an intricate plan, a plan that no one was privy to except him. 

Gladio waited. And waited some more. Eventually, he got impatient. 

“Hello? Eos to Specs. You gonna answer, or—”

“Neither,” he interrupted. 

“Huh?” 

“I’m not afraid of the dark, and I rather enjoy being alone with you.” He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “When you’re not being an ass, that is.” 

With a snort, Gladio said, “So, never then?” 

It earned him a surprised laugh from Ignis, one of his rare loud ones, and Gladio found that the sound warmed him from his head to his toes. 

_Huh._

“You are incorrigible.” 

“I think you mean ‘adorable.’” Gladio was grinning. Ignis could be easy to goad, and there was something wonderful about getting under the skin of someone usually so composed, but the advisor didn’t rise to the bait.

“No, you are hardly ‘adorable.’ Ruggedly handsome, perhaps,” Ignis corrected with a straight face. He said it in stride, continuing to walk even as Gladio stopped in his tracks, stunned. 

_On the offensive again_. 

Gladio jogged to catch up, passing his friend so he could stand in front of him. 

When Ignis tried to go around, the Shield side-stepped, waiting until the advisor met his eyes in annoyance.

“Yes?” he huffed.

“You really think that I’m handsome?” Gladio’s usual sarcasm was replaced with careful interest, as if he was afraid of the answer. 

Ignis immediately picked up on it, and his frown smoothed, eyes widening as faint pink tinged his cheeks. 

“...yes,” he confirmed, just as carefully as Gladio had asked. 

They stared at one another, the distant cry of a bird overhead the only noise.

“Hmm.” Gladio hummed, arms crossing as he looked at Ignis as if for the first time. _Really_ looked at him. 

“What?” Ignis mirrored Gladio’s posture, hands tucking tightly under his armpits, eyes narrowing defensively. 

“Nothin’.” With a chuckle, Gladio began to jog. “Try to keep up, Specs,” he’d called over his shoulder.

They arrived at the gas station, breathless, faces flushed. 

When they got back to the haven it was past dark and they were breathless again, but for a different reason. 

“Yo, Specs,” Gladio had said between footfalls and inhales. 

“Yes?” 

“Wanna pull off for a bit?” He slowed to a walk, the last of the daylight disappearing behind the trees. 

“Gladio, this is hardly the time for a detour,” Ignis responded in exasperation. They were about two miles away from camp, and Noctis and Prompto were undoubtedly hungry by now and eagerly waiting for Ignis to start dinner. 

“It’ll be quick.” 

The way Gladio said it made Ignis glance at the man out of the corner of his eye curiously. The Shield’s honey-gold eyes were aglow in the fading sun, hands on his hips. He presented Ignis with a lazy smile that sent the advisor’s heart fluttering in his chest. 

“What exactly did you have in mind?” Ignis had asked. 

It was clear by the startled noise that Ignis made that he wasn’t expecting Gladio to grab him by the wrist and pull him against his chest, crushing their mouths together with rough desire. In the middle of the deserted road, Gladio kissed his best friend until they were both gasping for air, foreheads slick with sweat and the taste of salt on their tongues. 

“Oh,” Ignis breathed.

He followed Gladio then, and every time after. 

It was great for a long time. It felt _right_. 

But then, Altissia happened. And their relationship somehow became the scapegoat for their failure, their neglected duty to Noct something neither of them could turn a blind eye to.

Gladio tried to salvage it, but the darkness wiped out any remaining chance they’d had for reconciliation. 

Survival tended to take precedence over personal desires. 

To lose someone hurt too much. Or rather, the risk of _losing_ a loved one hurt too much. For once, it was something everyone could agree on.

So, Gladio took every dangerous mission the Glaive could give him. The Marshal had made a passing comment when Gladio had signed up for this one.

“There will be plenty of daemons to fight tomorrow too, you know.” 

“Yeah, I know.” 

He felt the weight of Cor’s eyes on him when he left the Marshal’s office, but he was used to the heaviness of others’ expectations. 

Now, he was tucked inside a cave created by two large slabs of rock, and he’d been careful to keep the fire burning low so not to attract unwanted attention, but it seemed he’d failed.

As soon as he heard the skittering of rocks across the ground, he rose from his camping chair and grabbed for his sword, scanning the dark for signs of life.

There weren’t any growls or roars, just a steady shuffling. 

_A tonberry, maybe?_ Gladio thought, hand gripping the hilt of his weapon tightly. There was no telling. It could be anything. 

He felt his heart beating in his throat, wild and ready for battle. The thrill of danger was about the only thing the Shield could still appreciate, death a dance partner he was becoming more and more intimate with. 

But what stepped into the outer ring of firelight was no tonberry, nor was it any other monster Gladio was expecting.

Stunned, he let his sword slip from his grasp, and it landed with a resounding clatter that rang through the darkness.

“What…?” Gladio’s mouth struggled to form words as the person clasped their hands in front of them, assuming the same disapproving stance that he was all too familiar with. 

“Gladiolus, you have made yourself rather difficult to track down,” the accented voice chided. Gladio was taken aback by the playfulness in it, something he hadn’t heard in years.

_Am I dreaming? Am I dead?_

The latter seemed more likely, but then Ignis stepped closer, reaching out until his very real hand gently bumped against Gladio’s arm.

_Guess it’s neither._

Instinctively, Gladio stiffened.

 _He’s blind, that’s all it is_ , he had to remind himself. Even so, it had been a long time since he’d had any human contact, and the sudden warmth of the man’s palm against his tepid skin made him shudder. 

After his initial shock had worn off, Gladio recovered his senses. “What the hell are you doing out here, Ignis?”

“Iris called me. She’s worried,” he admitted. 

“She’s always worried about something,” Gladio deflected. 

“Multiple times. About _you_.” He inhaled slowly when Gladio didn’t comment. “She said,” Ignis chuckled, an undertone of bitterness to it, “—that she hoped you might listen to me, since you wouldn’t listen to her.”

He felt his temper flare hotter than the flames at his feet. All the adrenaline pumping through his body in anticipation of a fight was still there, and it needed an outlet. Unfortunately, Ignis was the only viable target for him to take it out on. 

“And you came all this way to lecture me? Is that it?” Gladio sneered as Ignis remained silent, unfazed. “In case you forgot, Specs, I’m a big boy. I don’t need anyone looking out for me. You and Iris should mind your own business.”

“You _are_ my business,” Ignis said lightly. 

Gladio wanted to hit him. But he didn’t. Mostly because, even blind, Ignis could still kick his ass. (Not that he would ever admit it.)

“I stopped being your business a long time ago,” he opted to growl instead, empty hands now balling into fists at his side. 

“Hardly.” 

“Go away,” he snapped furiously. 

“Not unless you come with me,” Ignis shot back. 

For some reason, the advisor’s calm demeanor only served to enrage Gladio further. Knowing the man couldn’t see him throw up his hands in frustration, Gladio kicked at his chair, sending it flying, but Ignis didn’t so much as flinch.

Time for Plan B.

“Why the hell do you suddenly care?” The snarl was low, the Shield’s words snapping like a whip. “Where were you the last five years, huh? When _I_ needed you?” Words were tumbling out now, surprising even Gladio, but he found that once he started, he couldn’t stop. He’d been holding them in too long. “You come and go when it’s convenient, but you’re not the only one who lost someone. You think you can just waltz in here and do a good deed to make yourself feel better? So you can feel justified in disappearing? I’m not the only one who _fucking_ failed, so don’t try to say this is about me when it’s not. _Nothing_ we do is going to make it better. It’s not going to bring him back!” 

The shouts echoed over the dark landscape, making the silence after them all the more severe. 

Gladio was panting from exertion, and he watched as Ignis removed his visor, the scar around the tactician’s eye an angry red. Even after all these years, it still sucked the air from his lungs anytime Gladio saw it. 

“Are you done?” Ignis asked boredly. His words were ice sizzling against the coals of Gladio’s rage.

“Not by a longshot,” he barked. When he bit down, he tasted blood, but his brain didn’t register the pain. He’d gone numb to it years ago. “Get off your fucking high horse and—”

But Ignis wasn’t going to wait for Gladio to finish throwing his tantrum. In one smooth movement, he closed the distance between them. The seasoned fighter knew from the sound of Gladio’s voice exactly where to grab and pull to throw him off balance, a perfectly aimed kick at the back of the larger man’s legs easily sweeping them out from under him.

“Fuck—!” Gladio landed hard on the ground, and it forced the air out of his chest, leaving him rasping from the impact. 

By the time he could breathe again, the cool bite of a dagger was against his throat, Ignis’s legs to either side of his hips, and the man’s free hand gripped Gladio’s shirt firmly. 

“Ignis—” Gladio started to say, only to have the words swallowed by a mouth that wasn’t his, cool lips refreshing when pressed to his warm ones. A tongue slid between them next, and his eyes fluttered closed, accepting Ignis’s kiss without protest.

Gradually, the tension drained out of his muscles, the crackle of the fire soothing his racing heart. He relaxed his head onto the ground as Ignis settled on top of him, the dagger falling to the side as the blind man curled fingers into the fabric of his tank top. 

_Huh._

Gladio gripped Ignis’s neck, squeezing a little as he deepened their kiss before allowing his knees to come up and cradle him possessively. Laughing, Ignis pulled back until their noses touched. He smiled. 

“Where the hell did that come from?” Gladio asked. He was awed to find all of his anger had miraculously turned to ash, extinguished by Ignis’s display of affection. 

“You aren’t the best with words,” Ignis stated, pressing a finger to Gladio’s lips when he scoffed. “ _But_ , your body language is excellent.” 

“I see what you did there.” 

He couldn’t agree more. 

It was as if no time had passed and they had picked up where they had left off. Ignis placed his head on Gladio’s firm chest and they laid on the ground, the Shield listening to the crackling of the fire while the advisor listened to the beating of the man’s heart. 

“I apologize,” Ignis eventually murmured. 

“Hm?” Lacing his hands behind his neck, Gladio glanced down in confusion at the head of sand colored hair against his sternum. 

“You’re right, I should have been there, but I…” He could hear Ignis struggle to get the words out. “...I couldn’t. Not then. I wasn’t ready. But...I’m here now. And I hope we can make up for lost time.”

Gladio hummed. “Can I get that ‘you’re right’ part in writing?” The slap against his stomach was worth hearing Ignis laugh. “...yeah, I get it. I’m sorry too.” 

“Oh?” The chuckle was more hopeful than anything. 

“For yelling. And, uh. Everything else.” 

“Apology accepted.” 

Ignis never asked for much. He was more of an ‘actions over words’ type of guy. Gladio loved that about him. 

“Well, that was easy. You’re not going to make me beg?” It was a metaphorical poking of the bear, but like usual, Ignis saw straight through it. 

Finally lifting his head, he scooted up to kiss Gladio again, slow and deliberate. “I’ll save that for a proper bedroom.” 

A new kind of heat instantly sparked inside of Gladio, and he let loose a loud breath, hands sliding down Ignis’s backside to grope his ass. 

_Damnit_ , _he’s good._ But of course, Gladio knew that from experience. 

“Mm.” Ignis scraped his teeth across Gladio’s collarbone in response. He took that as a good sign. 

“It’s been too long, Iggy.” When Gladio spoke, his voice was gruff from arousal, something that Ignis picked up on instantly. 

“For you, perhaps.” 

Gladio gaped in disbelief, then sighed when Ignis snickered. 

“Alright, I deserved that one.” 

“Mmhmm.” The advisor sounded pleased, hips subtly rubbing against Gladio’s growing hard-on. 

There was a time when Ignis knew every noise that Gladio made, could read the slightest shift in muscle tension. The Shield missed those days, when one touch from the man could take away every worry and doubt and make them seem trivial. 

As if reading his mind, Ignis allowed his hands to wander aimlessly over Gladio, exploring. He started at the man’s waist, fingers skimming under his shirt to outline the ridges of his abdominal muscles before moving on to his ribs and tracing the long scar over his chest. There was a devious pinching of one nipple that made Gladio jump, juxtaposed with a gentle rubbing of a palm along Gladio’s jaw, bristling the beard growing on it. 

Ignis lingered on the older scar along the Shield’s eye, then planted his lips over it reverently. “Still ruggedly handsome,” he said. 

“You can’t see me. Maybe I’m ugly now,” Gladio joked, but Ignis didn’t laugh, choosing to shake his head in disagreement instead. 

“I can see you just fine,” he claimed cryptically. Still, Gladio understood what he meant, and he felt something hot prick at the corner of his eyes, emotion abruptly overwhelming him. 

_Shit. Didn’t expect that._

It wasn’t until Ignis began to slide down the Shield’s body that he realized he had been holding his breath, and he let it out in a rush when the advisor’s hand found the zipper to his pants, brain doing a complete 180 as he sat up in alarm.

Ignis hesitated, hand pulling back like he’d touched a hot stove. “My apologies, should I not—?” 

“No,” Gladio reassured him quickly, laying back down. “No, you’re good.” He closed his eyes and tried to focus on Ignis’s weight on top of him as the tactician’s fingers worked to free his undeniable erection from his pants. 

He was thrown back to the first time they’d done this. Ironically, also on the ground, though there had been a lot more laughter involved. Ignis had to shush Gladio every other second. 

“ _Quiet_ , or they’ll hear us.”

“Let ‘em, I don’t care.”

“Gladiolus, I _will_ gag you if I have to.”

“Is that a promise?”

He’d come faster than he ever had with a woman. It was embarrassing for him, but Ignis hadn’t missed a beat.

“Seems we’ll need to practice,” he’d commented with a twinkle in his eye.

And practice they did.

They’d had their next lesson in the Regalia while Noctis and Prompto were busy shopping, and later at camp, with Noctis fishing just past the cliff face, still within eyesight. Again, in a back alley of Lestallum, pushed up against a brick wall. Then there was the rare occasion they got a real hotel room in Altissia, and they’d taken their time in the shower after sending the boys out sightseeing. 

_Practice makes perfect._

But now, Gladio was out of practice, and he squirmed when Ignis took his cock into his mouth, the tactician’s cheeks hallowing as he sucked along the thick length of him, tongue applying pressure to his hardened shaft. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” he moaned, fingers gripping in Ignis’s disheveled hair. 

He’d nearly forgotten what it felt like, but as Ignis’s head bobbed, it all came rushing back to him, muscles clenching as he arched into the contact. The sensation was dizzying, pleasure breaking down any remaining barriers between them. 

Saliva made Gladio’s erection slick, and Ignis encircled the base of it with one hand, adding even strokes to the work his mouth was already doing.

“ _Fuck_ , yeah, just like that.” The encouragement made Ignis hum, and the vibration around Gladio’s cock elicited a breathy sigh from the Shield. 

Ignis was as relentless as he was skilled, and it didn’t take long for him to take Gladio to the edge.

“Iggy—” 

The tactician paused when Gladio bucked his hips, pulling away to flit his tongue over the man’s cockhead like a snake tasting the air. 

“Six damnit, Ignis,” Gladio groaned. “I thought you weren’t gonna make me beg.” It was very close to a whine, and they both knew who was in control. 

“I changed my mind.” Ignis fondled the Shield’s balls in one palm at his leisure, then cupped the base of his arousal before adding excruciatingly slow strokes.

“Fuck— _fuck_ —Ignis, _please_.”

“Please what, my darling?” He sounded like he was enjoying himself.

Ignis was a merciless bastard, and no one could tell Gladio anything different. But the Shield was the only person who got to see this side of the tactician— and it drove him wild in all the best ways.

Gladio swallowed hard, voice dropping an octave with his desire. “ _Please_ , Ignis. I need you, baby.” 

“And?” Ignis drawled, squeezing Gladio’s cock ever-so-slightly. The Shield bit down, eyes rolling back as he stifled a desperate sound. 

“And—” the man’s breath hitched. “—I won’t run anymore. I fucking swear it. On my life.” 

The answer appeared to satisfy the advisor, for he plunged Gladio into his mouth again without warning, resuming his previous pace with renewed vigor. 

Gladio didn’t hold back this time, shouting obscenities to the sky. They were past the point of pretenses.

In the dark wilds of Lucis, it was only him and Ignis. No scourge, no prophecy, no daemons. 

No hurt, no pain. Just a raw emotion that engulfed them both, burning through everything they’d been holding onto.

Gladio let it all go, and he came with a startled cry not long after. Ignis, true to form, accepted everything without judgement, swallowing the physical and the emotional in one.

Once finished, Ignis sat up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Grabbing for the other one, Gladio brought it to his face, relishing in the coolness against his burning skin. He was sweating, more so from the lovemaking than the campfire that had been reduced to a pile of embers, and he watched Ignis’s face while counting to their ragged inhales and exhales, unable to speak. 

“I love you.” It was whispered but heard loud and clear. Ignis went still, but he didn’t look upset. Gladio saw his lips curl up at the edges. 

That’s when he noticed the bulge in Ignis’s pants, and he reached for the man, intent on returning the favor, but the tactician chuckled in amusement, taking Gladio’s hands in his. 

“Not now,” he said. 

“What? Why?” Gladio’s eyebrows furrowed. 

Ignis’s smile widened. 

“I need to catch my breath.” 


End file.
